Pregnant By My Boss - Page 25

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fine,” I snap, pulling my phone out of my pocket and scrolling until I hit the right dates. “Look at this. Look at my outgoing calls from a year ago.”

I hand her the phone, my outgoing calls displayed on the screen. She scrolls through them, her brows knitted in confusion.

“My cell isn’t on this list,” she says, handing the phone back to me. “Neither is my work number.”

“Now who’s lying?” I say, holding the phone toward her again. I scroll through the list and point at her cell number. It’s the one Amanda gave me for Katie’s company. “It’s right here. Look.”

She squints her eyes and carefully reads over the phone number. “That isn’t my work number. It’s the right area code and first three numbers, but the last four numbers are jumbled—they’re in the wrong order.”

“What?” I ask, staring at the phone number. The number reflects exactly what Amanda gave me when I requested Katie’s contact info. “That’s not possible. My employee said this is the number she used to contact you.”

“It isn’t,” she says. She pulls out a business card and hands it to me. Sure enough, the number I’d been calling is incorrect. It’s possible I typed it into my phone wrong, but I swear I copied it correctly.

Amanda chooses that moment to enter the dining room. She smiles when she sees me, but scowls at the sight of Katie. My stomach drops and everything clicks. Holy fuck.

Yeah, I definitely didn’t type the number in wrong. Realization crashes into my brain. Amanda turns around, looking like she forgot something, but I call out to her. “Get over here,” is my bark. “You have some explaining to do.”

The blonde turns back around and skulks toward us. “Yes, Mr. Moore?”

She bats her eyelashes, as if that might distract me from my anger and suspicion. I can’t help but roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of her behavior. Her flirtatious attempts have never worked on me before, but for whatever reason, she hasn’t stopped trying.

“Has Katie tried calling me at the office?”

“No,” Amanda says quickly. I fix her with a hard stare. She steps back, curling into herself. “Yes,” she adds quietly.

I swallow down the rage that is threatening to bubble up to the surface. I want to beat the woman, but I won’t. As my employee, I’ll give her a chance to explain her side. And then she’ll get what she deserves.

“Did you tell my staff to keep Katie’s calls and visits from me?”

Amanda looks like she’s struggling to find the answer. Not looking me in the eyes, she responds, “Yes.” She seems to have realized there’s no way out of this. We both know the truth. Questioning her is a courtesy.

“Did you give Trent the wrong number so he couldn’t call me?” Katie asks her, unable to keep the disbelief from her voice.

Amanda pierces Katie with an icy glare, as if she can’t believe the question. “Yes,” Amanda hisses, “I did it all, okay? Are you happy now?”

No, I’m not happy. I am furious, but I’m also hurt. Amanda was supposed to be my right-hand man, not someone who plotted against me and kept things from me. I trusted her for years with both personal and business information. How far does her betrayal go? To what extent?

“Why?” I ask. “Why would you do this?”

She shoots me a resentful glare. “Look at you. Even now, a year after you’ve seen her, you can’t wait to get her back to bed. That should be me! You’re supposed to want me, Trent!”

I gape at her, stunned at her words and her use of my first name. She’s never called me Trent instead of Mr. Moore before, and I hate the way it sounds coming from her mouth. What is she talking about? Why on earth would we get together? We’ve never had a relationship outside of work. Obviously, I knew she was attracted to me, what with her incessant flirting, but I shut that down every time, hard and firm. These are the delusions of a psychopath.

I glance at Katie and her hurt expression makes me wince. I have to set this straight. For both of them.

“You and I have never been together,” I growl at Amanda. “We’ve never so much as kissed. What makes you think we have a future together?”

Her breath hitches and her eyes grow teary.

“Because you’re perfect for me, and I’m perfect for you. Not her. She’s a working girl who can barely make a living. Her social status is so low she would never fit in with you—our—crowd. I have a great education, and I know everything about your business! We fit together so well, Trent, can’t you see that? I could be a stay-at-home wife, which is what an important businessman like you needs.”

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